Page 60 of Demon Demands

Heat bloomed in my core, and I wanted to curse Sloane for her interference. It wasn’t the time for her hormones to take over. We had a demon to murder.

I felt pure joy as the brick red demon turned a ruddy orange, his life force dwindling as I bled him out on the streets of Hell. Flexing my fingers, I stretched the holes in his neck and held his body weight up.

Before he could pass out from the blood loss, I reached up, capturing his tongue between my index finger and thumb. Snatching it out of his mouth with pure brute strength made butterflies flutter through my stomach.

Dropping the unconscious demon into a heap on the ground, I tore through his chest cavity to expose his hearts. I pulled them out without fanfare and shoved them into the hands of my mage.

He didn’t argue, but he didn’t appear very happy to hold my gifts either, keeping his hands as far away from his shirt as possible.

“Now,” I turned to the dead demon’s victims. “I’m not going to kill you tonight. We have plans, you know. This impromptu killing is really cutting into my time with all of my treasures. I don’t appreciate your friend only thinking of himself.”

I raised my eyebrow as I waited for them to acknowledge that they’d heard me. When they nodded, I continued. “I want you to leave. Stay away from Hell, keep your children and your mate safe, and be careful who you do business with.”

“Y-y-yes, Devil,” the male on the right stammered, grabbing the other male’s hand.

“Let me see your arms, please.”

I rolled my eyes as Sloane pushed against me. She was too willing to offer our protection to these males, but she’d seen their children, so I knew she would find them if I didn’t do what she wanted.

“I’m going to leave the Third Devil’s mark on you. If you need us, you’ll know how to find us.”

Reluctantly they held out their arms, and I pressed my blood covered hand on each of their forearms.

Once the magical mark was left and my fae had released them, they thanked us and briskly walked away. I wanted to pout about being forced to do the right thing by leaving them alive, but Sloane was persistent, and usually… right about it.

I glared at the poor excuse of a dead demon at my feet, his blood pooling around my combat boots.

“I need a dagger,” I lamented, my bloodthirsty mood thoroughly trashed because of my better half. “There’s already so much gore to pick out from under my nails.”

My charming Briggs handed me a switchblade from his pocket, grinning lazily at my petulance. “What are you going to do?”

I smirked at him, kneeling next to the body. “Turn around if you don’t want nightmares. Something tells me the fear of my mates won’t taste as good as the fear from my victims.”

Several of my treasures turned around, but my shifter and demon mates remained facing me as I began my work.

Popping the button off the males pants, I tugged the zipper down, causing my Briggs to mutter, “Nope,” as he twisted, giving me his back.

I liked leaving gifts for Sloane, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate this one as much as the others that I’d left for her.

When my work was done, I pushed the body into the Void, not caring of where he ended up. He could tumble through the winds until he decayed.

I moved to stand in front of my treasured mates, my gift tucked into the pocket of our skirt.

“I’m going to fly back to the palace and change clothes, get some of this blood off of us so that we don’t stir up anymore trouble.”

As I stretched my wings, Palmer looked at me with wide eyes. “What exactly am I supposed ta do with these?” he sarcastically questioned, holding his hands out.

“Give them to Jack. I don’t fucking want them.”

“Yer a pain in my arse,” he grumbled under his breath, and I smirked at him, feeling a little heat return to my veins, lifting my mood again.

“Say it again,” I dared him. “I’ll make it literal.” I winked, pushing myself into the air.

“Don’t drink the green beer,” I reminded them before they faded from view.

The trip to the palace would take no time at all. I could clean up and re-dress, and then be back before they ordered food and drinks. Though Sloane would probably change again, saying combat gear wasn’t necessary. She liked her skirts and dresses. I did not. The only clothing we could agree on was leggings and t-shirts. And our combat boots.

Once I was in our room, I cleaned up quickly and went searching for something to write on. I found some stationery in the nightstand and jotted down a quick note for Sloane in cursive, leaving my gift to act as a small paperweight. After I had everything the way I wanted, I slipped out of the driver’s seat, giving Sloane back full control.